


sittin, watchin the world fallen down; it's decline

by darklips_paleface



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 5x11 rewrite, Collaboration fic, I hate ed, M/M, Reminiscing, oswald is HAPPY in the end okay, sorry tze it had to be done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklips_paleface/pseuds/darklips_paleface
Summary: It's hard not to get nostalgic.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon, both one-sided sorta
Kudos: 30





	sittin, watchin the world fallen down; it's decline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queerdarkknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerdarkknight/gifts).



> so this fic is a collaboration i did with one of my BEST friends, wherein heath made a video and i wrote this bc we said "fuck nygmob lives, stan gobblepot for clear skin" (Heath's AMAZING fic trailer can be found here: https://twitter.com/queerdarkknight/status/1247616073538711555)  
> title is from the unfathomably, indescribably good posthumous "Circles" by Mac Miller, from the titular track on the album
> 
> im only rewriting this ep bc gobblepot rights; this is tze chuns world we are all merely living in it. also these are mostly his words, as he wrote this ep, and i take zero credit for the brilliance that is the jim/oswald dialogue in here that was all our king. ya know, up until it gets blatantly gay. (but hey guys? can we all just be cool for like ONE second and not let tze know about this one okay? thanks)

“Oswald, if you walk off this dock I’m taking the submarine… AND THE TREASURE! OSWALD!”

But it was too late, Oswald had already made up his mind and he was going to  _ stay,  _ damn it. No matter how pointless it may turn out to be. There was truly nothing Ed could stay to stop him, besides, what more  _ was  _ there to say? Ed was right, after all. Following his heart had always been his demise. But he was doing so anyways- even now, at the end of all things- because he simply couldn’t help it. He could bluff all he wanted, those closest to him would still always know that Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot was actually incredibly easy to take down. Just aim for the heart.

“Oswald, please! I- I love you!”

And aim for the heart, he did.

So, it seemed there was  _ one  _ thing Ed could say to get him to stop, if only momentarily, in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around to face Edward and found the other man nearly trembling.

“I know this city is important to you, Os, but it’s going down. There’s nothing we can do to stop that. And it may be your home- but, really- it’s just a collection of bricks and bodies and ghosts of our past. If we leave it now, we can build a new home. Together.”

It takes a few moments to process the ridiculous shift in Ed’s tone, his demeanor. Mere moments ago he had been cold, and calculating, and practically mocking Oswald. And now here he was- playing the part of the lovestruck fool. As though he hadn’t  _ just _ attacked Oswald for thinking too much with his heart.

“Ed… What are you even saying to me right now? What, is this some scheme? A plan to ensure I come with you?” He chuckles to himself, an afterthought more than anything. “You have to know that tactic won’t work. Would’ve been much better suited for fooling me, oh, three or so years ago?”

Ed flinches a bit, clearly taken aback. “Oswald...This- this isn’t a  _ scheme _ I’m trying to be sincere! I do love you!” And the way he says it is so the opposite of how Oswald had, years ago, dreamed he might one day confess it that he has to work very hard to hold back an outright guffaw.

“No you don’t, Ed. Cold logician, remember? Love’s not your game, never was. It was always just my cross to bear, I'm afraid.”

Ed is starting to fume, looking quite offended with each passing exchange. “How can you say that! I loved Kristen, and Isabella, and Lee! I’ve loved plenty! I can’t help it- I  _ try  _ to stop it, to be ruled only by logic and reason, but it- well! You should know! You- you love me, despite our feuds and differences!”

It’s a nice change of pace, Oswald muses, feeling nothing but pity as Ed works himself up into a fit. Must’ve been what Ed felt, on that pier, or as Oswald sat tied to a chair professing his love. How blinded he’d been, back then.

“No, Ed, I don’t. I don’t love you. Sound familiar?” And really, he doesn’t hate Ed. Doesn’t want to be so cruel, at present. But he can’t really help himself; the opportunity was  _ right  _ there. And Oswald was nothing if not opportunistic. 

Ed looks away sharply, takes a few deep breaths to steady himself, before addressing Oswald again. This time, though, some vulnerability has gone from his face. Rather than the soft sincerity that had colored his features before; now Ed looks at him with the steeliness of one ready for what will surely be a hard-won debate. It’s better, at least. More honest. More Ed. Good, Oswald refuses to do this if they aren’t going to be totally truthful with one another. 

“I deserved that, I suppose. But it’s not true. I don’t believe that you, of all people, put an expiration date on love. That’s not how you work, Oswald, and we both know it.”

Oswald sighs, a bit annoyed at the assumption but unable to refute it. “No, I suppose it’s not. However, I’m also not an idiot, Ed, and hard as it may be for you to believe: I’m not a masochist, either. You’ve betrayed me so often, made it clear to me that I would always be your second, third,  _ last _ choice. Why would I still carry a torch for you, knowing those feelings would never truly be returned? Why would I do that to myself?”

“But I’m telling you now, Oswald, they  _ are  _ returned!”

“Okay, say that they are; why now, Ed? Why me, why here, why  _ now?  _ And none of that ‘I can’t help it, the heart wants what it wants’ nonsense,” for that, Oswald affects the theatrical and melodramatic voice of a star-crossed lover. Ed rolls his eyes. “I know you, and that’s just not how the emotion works for you.”

Ed ascesses him, eyes squinted in suspicion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Miss Kringle was convenient because you worked with her and she was somewhat out of your grasps. You never  _ really  _ thought her to be attainable, but you loved the idea of saving her.” Ed nods, too far removed from the situation to still feel an emotional attachment. “Isabella….”

A moment passes, a small bout of silence as if to acknowledge the very pier they’re standing on.

“Well, I hate to repeat myself, but that was barely more than a delusion. You thought her to be a second chance, and never saw her as anything but a stand-in for her predecessor. Given enough time, you would have done away with her in the same fashion as Kringle and you know it.” Ed is quiet. He doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t interrupt, either. “It wasn’t a practical choice, but it was safe and easy and  _ comfortable.  _ You’d been there before. It was far less risky than your...other option, at the time.”

Their eyes meet then, and it’s like those three years had never passed at all. Like they’re still coworkers at city hall, like things are still so pure and  _ happy  _ between them. It’s a nice memory, but it’s not a reality. Oswald shakes himself from it before it can drag him down into the watery depths beneath them again. 

“Leslie, well.” Oswald chuckles at that, “Ed; Leslie was the most convenient of them all. You spent a few weeks with her whilst you were at your lowest, then convinced yourself that you had turned from a sinner to a saint. For love!” He laughs again, Edward is less amused. “I’m still not sure who was fooling themselves more, you or her, to think that the two of you actually ever  _ had  _ something. Then again, I don’t think she was ever that naive about your...whatever it was. So the honor goes to you, I suppose.” 

Ed is fuming again, readying himself to refute every last claim, when Oswald decides he’d rather not hear it. “So, Ed, tell me: What was the  _ reasoning  _ that compelled you this time? Maybe, another time, I could’ve believed that there were  _ feelings  _ involved,” he almost mentions hearts drawn in the air and ginger tea with honey, but holds his tongue. “But now- well, we’re rather hardened, aren’t we, Ed? So, again I will ask you; why now?”

Something in Ed looks rather defeated, when only moments ago he’d been fighting tooth and nail. Some part of what Oswald is saying has rung true, then. Which figures; Ed hates nothing more than admitting his own faults, never does it in actuality. But he still  _ knows  _ when he’s wrong, when he’s been bested.

He lets out a sigh, and finally is ready for some honesty. “I don’t know. I suppose it has something to do with you being my last ally left, or maybe it's the fact that up until a few moments ago you were to be the only person I knew in some far-off, forgein land where we would be building an empire anew. Together. The timing; it just made sense to me. It was our time to be… Well,  _ us. _ ”

The smile that works its way across Oswald’s lips is rueful and joyless. “I hate to disagree; but I believe our time has long passed. Once upon a time there were real feelings between us, Eddie. There was real love. And I know you still can’t admit that to yourself, maybe it’s too much for you, but you know when that was and why it ended. Now, though. Well, what you just described sounds  _ terrible,  _ frankly _.  _ Not only does it lack any emotion whatsoever, it’s also rather dull. A marriage of convenience, if you will. And I won’t.”

Ed doesn’t look crushed at that, merely curious. “So you really don’t love me anymore, then?”

“You once said, Edward, that love is about sacrifice.” He looks to the pier around them, can practically see their story playing out in reverse before his very eyes across the muted grey sky and the dark green waters. “And I took that to heart. Sacrificed myself for you time and time again, getting nothing in return. I think I’ve sacrificed enough of myself for you, Ed. Maybe if you knew how to love someone back, maybe then…” He thinks of what that could be like, can _just_ see the edges of it in his mind's eye: Ed would be playing something on a grand piano, in the middle of some well-lit apartment in some city where crime only goes as far as light shoplifting and the occasional B&E, something ridiculous that he had just made up in that moment, because his heart would be full to bursting and overflowing out of him in the form of some up-tempo tune. Oswald would be sitting on the sofa, Martin in his lap, looking at Ed with his heart on his sleeve and love in his eyes. Martin- his  _ boy,  _ the child he had to sacrifice to the war, had to send off to be better cared for- smiling and laughing, with the warm afternoon light spilling from the enormous windows framing his cherubic curls and bouncing off of his healthy and full cheeks. He would whisper something to Martin, but would say it loud enough for Ed to hear, something like; ‘Doesn't daddy play so well? You know, I knew I was in love with him when I first heard him sing. I knew because he was the only person I’d ever thought had a lovelier voice than my mother.’ Martin would roll his eyes, because his fathers were so in love and so  _ disgusting _ about it, and this would make Ed laugh because of course his son would take after Oswald's sass. Edward’s  _ son-  _ but no. There could be no joy like that in a life between the two of them, only pain and destruction. 

“But right now, Edward, no. I can’t love you, I have to protect myself. Loving you and loving myself are two impossibilities that cannot co-exist.” Ed doesn’t comment on the slight mist adorning Oswald’s eyes, doesn’t utter another word. Allows him to walk away, finally, because what  _ could  _ he say? It was true, and Ed knew it. Allowing Oswald to walk away from him, from  _ them,  _ is the first selfless thing Oswald can remember him doing in their entire long and pitiful history together. Perhaps there is hope for him yet, then. But Oswald refuses to wait any longer for it, and leaves Ed there, on their pier, to fight for the love he still has left in him.

* * *

Which is what makes it so  _ hilarious,  _ then, that he ends up at the GCPD. Specifically, that he ends up in Jim Gordon’s office. 

“Oswald. Come in.”

Oswald laughs, somewhat amazed at Jim's ability to recognize him without even turning around. “Still have those eyes in the back of your head, Jim?”

Jim assesses him for a moment, before replying. “No, you just have a remarkably recognizable odor. Part dandy and part snake, after all these years it hasn’t changed.” and there’s a softness in his eyes at that. Oswald knows what it means, knows that his words are carefully selected and knows that, even with all of this feigned gruffness, even after all this time, there’s something in Jim that still feels for Oswald like he did those many years ago. The same way that part of Oswald, too, seems to be forever unable to fully let go of Jim Gordon. Jim nods towards the chair opposite of his, asks; “Drink?”

“No, thank you. Dulls the senses.”

“That’s what I was going for.” and is that… Disappointment in Jim’s tone? It’s almost a flirtation.  _ Almost.  _ Except Jim is married and Oswald and he… Well. That ship has sailed. Right? “Surprised you’re still here, figured you’d be long gone by now.” And with that, any lingering tension is gone. Much like many of the men in Oswald’s life, it’s just another story of moments they could’ve acted upon, but didn’t. Jim sobers up a bit before adding, “That storm you’ve warned me about for so long? It’s finally here.”

Oswald remembers that, clear as if it were yesterday and not almost five years ago. He was… Well, he was  _ nothing  _ that day on the pier. In fact, he was barely even a criminal. Part of him wonders if all those nights he’d spent with Jim in those days, the releases of built up tension and hurried kisses in alleyways, were because of Jim’s attraction to that version of him. The Good Oswald, who he could’ve been at one point. It’s certainly not a look he himself is very proud of, but he privately thinks that maybe Jim was less attracted to the darkness in him and more drawn to the potential for light. 

It’s a lot to reflect on, and he can’t quite stop himself from alerting Jim to the fact that he’s just gone on his own personal trip down memory lane. “We’ve shared some turbulent times, you and I.” 

All Jim says is a simple, “That we have” but it conveys so much  _ more.  _ He’s thinking of them, too- what they were back in the days of mob bosses and corrupt police systems. Simpler times.

It’s hard not to get nostalgic when it comes to Jim. Ed was, indeed, one of the great loves of his life- but he wasn’t the first. Jim was... _ Special.  _ Oh, there had been flings before him,  _ during  _ him, but Jim was different. He was, at times, the most cruel and horrible thing in Oswald's life. And then he was soft, gentle even. Oswald could weep freely in Jim’s arms about Fish and the five families and whatever else occupied his time back then, after they’d spent the night together, and receive no judgment in turn. Jim didn’t use it against him, like any of Oswald’s other lovers at the time would have. Weakness was something he was so desperately trying to escape in those days, and Jim was there to allow him a relief from that tired existence. But, of course, Jim found Lee. And Oswald, unfortunately, found Ed. Oh, they still had their moments together. But it was always more rushed, more of a  _ sin.  _ In their early days, though, it was almost sacramental. 

“When you spared my life on the pier that day, banished me from Gotham, that was the most lost I’ve ever been.” Oswald finds he can’t stop the flow of words coming from his lips. These have been his private thoughts for years, and yet here he is- spewing them. But what worthier an audience than Jim? They have, after all, been together since the beginning. “Because I was away from the city, you see. It’s a part of me.” Jim flinches a bit then, and it’s not so much in fear or discomfort as it is in  _ understanding.  _ “You know what I’m talking about, because it’s a part of you, too.” The realization hits him fully, and suddenly Oswald feels all the more sure that his words are not falling on deaf ears. “Sure, I could escape- with money, I might add- and what? Stand on the shores of the mainland and watch the army burn it to the ground? Then watch tasteless industrialists and vapid politicians rebuild it? No, my life is etched on the walls of every alley and dirty warehouse here. My blood lives in it’s broken concrete. I’m staying to fight- for my  _ legacy.”  _

And that, really, is what separates Ed and Jim, to Oswald. Both men may forever hold some place in his heart, but Ed is not a  _ part  _ of Gotham the way Jim is. Does not feel the siren call of the city walls as Jim does, doesn’t know what it means to owe your  _ life  _ to something which has only ever brought you pain and heartache. It’s an impossible thing to explain to one unlike them, and that is what draws him to Jim time and time again. 

  
  


“Oswald…” Jim starts, and it’s going to be poignant. It’s going to be about their... _ history.  _ Oswald can feel it in his bones. On any other day, this would be the exact moment they get interrupted, or one of them would back out of the room with some excuse so as not to address all that they’ve ever been to each other. However, for once in their lives- amidst the turmoil and chaos around them- they are left at peace. Briefly allowed to enjoy the weight of the moment before- “I'm grateful that you’re staying to fight. I know it’s not for  _ me,  _ but I’m thanking you anyways.” Jim adds quickly, anticipating exactly what Oswald had planned to correct him on. “And, y’know, in case this is the end. For Gotham, or for either of us, I just have to say- well, I  _ want  _ to say that-” It would be so easy, to stop him, to brush this all to the side and leave everything unspoken. Oswald could open his mouth, right now, say something like ‘ _ No need to say it, old friend; the sentiment is returned. Now let’s gather the troops, hm?’  _ But… He doesn’t. “That even though I married Lee, and she really is just…” He looks a little dreamy, just thinking of her. It makes Oswald somewhat nauseous. “Well, yeah.” He clears his throat, apologetic.. “She’s it for me. But you- Oswald, I did love you once. You’ll always be...Hah, I’m not even  sure _what_ , most days. But I have a sinking suspicion that if we  _ do  _ live through this, we’ll always be… Connected, somehow. And that’s- well, it is what it is. But I’ll never regret what we once had. I, uh, I think of it fondly. Yeah. I just, uh, I thought you should know that.”

It’s a bit bumbly and awkward and more closure than anything else, but of the two declarations of love he’d received today, it’s this one that makes his heart swell painfully. Oswald smiles in return, doesn’t quite have the words in him to really reply to that.

“Thank you, James. I’m glad you told me this, and for what it’s worth- I loved you, as well. Will always love you, perhaps.” Jim looks at him a little sadly. Maybe he’s regretful that he can no longer return the feeling, maybe more pitiful- for the constant loneliness that seems to follow Oswald Cobblepot wherever he goes like a shadow. “But! That is the past, and if you ask me; I much prefer the looks of our future. Let’s go fight for it, hm?” It’s not  _ quite  _ true, but it’s enough for Jim to nod, to follow him out the doors and onto the battlefield. It’s enough for what they are now, more enemies than allies even as they stand side by side on the frontlines. It’s enough to see them through winning,  _ somehow, _ the battle for Gotham and it's enough to see them through all the years that follow it. 

Because- Oswald thinks to himself, privately; when he’s just a sad man reminiscing alone in bed at night, hoping he’s not murdered in his bedsheets- Oswald is a romantic. And over the course of his life, he’s only ever felt very certain about a few things. One of them being; it truly is better to have loved and lost than never at all, sappy as it sounds. Edward was not offering him love, not really, not yet. Jim was only offering him the final blows, the door closing on a love that once was. But it  was  _real_ , and honest, and pure, once upon a time. And that- well, Oswald chooses that love over a bond of boredom and necessity any day. Would rather be alone and sentimental than connected and cold, detached. So he sits atop Gotham, on his throne, alone, and still- he  _ shines.  _

Fin.


End file.
